Muggles and Cappuccinos
by AussieWizard
Summary: Three years after the downfall of Voldemort, the wizarding world seems to be at peace. But the Death Eaters are still on the move, and they will stop at nothing to get to the one person the Dark Lord never could - Harry Potter.  Full summary inside


**Full Summary:** It's been three years since Voldemort's downfall, and the wizarding world seems at peace. After an unexpected breakup with Ginny Weasley, Harry ventures out into the Muggle world to cope. However, in the Muggle World, Harry notices people following him occasionally, as if they are monitoring his every move. As Harry begins to develop feelings for a Muggle named Laura, who works at the Muggle cafe that he frequents, these occurences escalate into full-blown attacks and Harry realizes that the Death Eaters are re-surfacing. And they won't stop until he is dead.

**A/N: I had this idea that would NOT go away no matter how hard I wanted to focus on 'Dagger of Thorodan' and so I had to write it down. And then it turned into a full fledged story. So I'm REALLY sorry for those who follow DoT, but that has gone on the back burner for now. I WILL get back to it, I promise!**

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: I am not JK Rowling (although I REALLY wish I were), ergo I do not own Harry Potter. Sad faces all around. :(**

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This moment was probably a first in his life: listening to the Christmas music was making him anxious and on edge. In his opinion, the best part about the Christmas holiday was all of the music that came with it, and how it spread such joy and cheer to those who listened to it. But not tonight – tonight he just wanted the damn Christmas recital to end. What the hell was making it last so long? Deirdre's daughter was scheduled to sing in it, but there were five songs left in the program until she was to perform…

He barely heard the whispering voice of his wife interrupt his thoughts, "Darling, would you please stop that?…"

The man in question had been biting the skin near his fingernails for the past half hour, stopping for a few minutes after being scolded, only to start again once he thought that Deirdre wasn't paying attention. He usually showed no signs of anxiety, however this night was different. He couldn't help that his nerves were going haywire; he was _so _late…

"…Your fingers will bleed soon if you keep that up…" She pulled his hand away from his mouth.

"Why the hell is this taking so long?" he cut her off in the middle of her tirade.

"Darling, you know how long these recitals take – "

"They have _never_ – "

"SHHH!"

The dumpy woman sitting in front of them had whipped around, index finger at her mouth, with a stern look on her face. "Do you _mind?_"

She whipped back around to face the stage. A chubby girl with the same stern look in her eyes was singing 'Deck the Halls'. The man had a suspicion that the two females were related… no wonder that woman had been so intent to quiet the couple.

"'_Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la la la la la."_

The girl looked anything but jolly at having to sing that song. The man would have laughed at the irony, but his mind was too busy worrying about the time. He should have been there five minutes ago…

Giving into his nerves, he immediately stood and scooted his way out of the row of seats.

"_Where are you going!"_ his wife groaned.

He didn't stop; he had made it to the lobby of the auditorium when he heard a clacking of heels following him.

"Where do you _think_ you are going!" she was livid.

"I have to go."

"Go _where?_ You are NOT going to just walk out of her recital…"

"Deirdre, listen – "

"No, _you_ are the one who needs to listen right now."

"I – "

"You have missed _the last four of these recitals._"

"I can't help it that– " it took all of his strength not to yell at her.

"What?" her voice, though still at a tolerable volume, was becoming more and more shrill with every statement that she made. "Can't help what? That you miss Molly's recitals consistently?"

"It's not my fault – "

"You are supposed to be her _FATHER_!" she spat out each of those words. "She looks up to you like her father! I thought that meant something to you! You can't not show up to any of her recitals, these are _important_ to her!"

"I _have_ to!" He yelled. He had had enough of this. "I don't want to go to these damn meetings any more than you want me to go!"

She looked taken aback by his sudden outburst. "Don't shout, we're in public."

"I should have been there seven minutes ago!" he couldn't stop the frustration and nerves that had been bubbling up.

"Honey, _please_, stop shouting!" she grabbed at his arm.

"DO YOU THINK I _WANT _TO BE THERE?"

"_STOP IT!"_ she shrieked.

"Ahem."

They instantly looked towards the door to the auditorium. The dumpy woman was there again. "If you two continue to converse at this loud of a volume, then perhaps it would be best for you to leave."

"No." Deirdre responded, her voice slightly hoarse yet firm, "My husband and I are very sorry; it won't happen again."

The woman's eyes flickered between the two as she slowly closed the door.

The instant the door closed, the man drew a slender wand from the inside of his jacket. She had been far too infuriating tonight…

"Honey, _no_."

"I won't." he snapped at her, "I'm not that stupid."

"You used to be."

He had nothing to say to her in return, for she was absolutely right. He hoped that his lack of response conveyed that message, and knowing Deirdre, it probably did. He glanced down at his watch: he was eleven minutes late.

"I have to go." He strode past his wife and to the front door.

"Are these meetings the same kind as before?"

Sometimes, she was just too damn perceptive for her own good. "Yes."

"I thought that this all ended three years ago." He could hear the hurt and disappointment welling in her voice. He cringed at hearing that: he hated lying to her.

"There…there is still an issue."

"It's him, isn't it? After three years, this is still all about that poor boy."

The silence that followed was enough verification for Deirdre.

He pulled open the door. "Tell Molly that Daddy is sorry for missing her recital."

And with that, he hurried out into the frigid December air of downtown London.

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The man entered the hallway and sped down to reach the door on the other side. He wrenched open the door and scurried up the spiral staircase. Higher and higher he went, his ears were plugging up slightly due to the altitude change. At the top of the staircase, he opened yet another door to reveal a medium sized sitting room, with large windows overlooking downtown London. The room was lit by a levitating magical fire floating above a circle of armchairs, four of which were occupied. The faces of three men and a fierce-looking woman were staring at the man who had just entered the room.

"You're late." The man sitting in the farthest armchair looked coldly upon the entrant with a cruel smirk.

"I got held up – " the man began, palms sweating slightly.

"We don't have time for excuses, Mitchell." The man's voice quickly adopted a tone of impatience, "Sit; there is much to discuss."

Mitchell hesitated at first, yet complied. He was just grateful that his tardiness had been brushed off so easily. "I thought this was to be a full meeting, Yaxley… I thought everyone was to be here."

"Plans change. I found I could only trust the four of you to complete this mission."

Mitchell looked at the others in the room; there were two burly-looking men and a woman with whom Mitchell frequently used to work with years ago. These had to be the best of the Death Eaters remaining, Mitchell thought, or else Yaxley wouldn't have chosen them.

Yaxley's voice broke the silence; it was apparent that he was impatient to start the meeting. "The Dark Lord may be dead, but that doesn't mean his visions and plans die with him. We all saw the truth in this ways, and we all pledged allegiance to him and his movement when we were marked with the Dark Mark. Now that he is gone, we must continue his work in purifying the world of all those who are unfit to use magic."

Mitchell noted there was that familiar general consensus among the other wizards… he would have to keep his new opinions on the matter to himself.

"However," Yaxley continued, "there is still Harry Potter…"

Mitchell could feel a sense of loathing for Potter radiating from the other inhabitants of the room.

"We must start by getting rid of Potter, which, now that the Dark Lord is no longer a threat, should be considerably easier."

The scrawny man sitting to the right of Yaxley let out a low rumble of a snigger. "Yaxley, you're certainly aiming high."

"It must be done or every other action we take will be futile." Yaxley argued, a tone of bitterness creeping into his voice, "Need I remind you how many times he has thwarted the Dark Lord's plans before? We cannot afford to have Potter interfere this time."

The Death Eaters were silent, obviously considering Yaxley's points. Yaxley took advantage of the silence and continued, "Do you not wish to see 'The Chosen One' suffer for what he did to the Dark Lord? I most certainly would… and I assure you, any _loyal_ Death Eater would as well."

Yaxley seemed to have persuaded the others, for the two male Death Eaters nodded in agreement to participate. Yaxley turned his attention to the woman and she nodded in return as well. The only one who had not committed to the plan was Mitchell.

"So where do we begin?" The shorter, stockier death eater to Mitchell's left spoke for the first time that night.

"We need to lure Potter into the Muggle world, he will be less protected there." Yaxley relaxed back into his chair.

"Why so?"

"With the absence of the Dark Lord, the Ministry has felt it less necessary than before to closely monitor the Muggles. Of course, they are still on the look out for magic done in the presence of a Muggle, however it will be easier to access Potter when and where there are no other wizards around." Yaxley directed his next remarks to the woman, "You will lure Potter out into the Muggle world, I don't care what you do, but make sure that our presence remains unknown."

The woman's mouth curled into a delighted smirk. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Excellent. Cranson and Prute" Yaxley addressed the two other male Death Eaters, "– lie low for now. I will inform you when I require your services.

"I stress this to all of you," Yaxley spoke to everyone in the circle, "this plan will never be set in stone. There is no definite way to get to Potter, for if there were, we would have had him by now. It will be all about opportunity, moments. The other remaining Death Eaters do not recognize this, and that is why they are not sitting in this room right now; they expect to charge into the Wizarding world, kill Potter, and overthrow the Ministry in one day. They expected us to do that three years ago. But these things take time; The Dark Lord knew that and we all do too. We have waited, and the Ministry believes us to be long gone but they are wrong, they are very wrong indeed. We are most certainly not gone at all.

"That should be all for now; keep me updated, but _do not_ use the Dark Mark to communicate, we can't arouse suspicion."

All stood, save for Yaxley, and began to maneuver towards the door. Prute and Cranson left first, disapparating halfway down the stairwell. Mitchell held the door open for the woman, and was about to follow her down the stairs when Yaxley spoke.

"Mitchell – a word, please."

The woman gave Mitchell a wink, and murmured "I'll see you tomorrow" before disapparating as well. He closed the door and begrudgingly walked back over to where Yaxley sat.

"Mitchell, I need you to keep an eye out on Potter during this mission, so that we don't lose track of him. Learn when it would be best to attack, and corner him when the opportunity arises. Let me know immediately when you do so, and I'll send Prute and Cranson to assist you. I trust you will execute this task to the best of your ability."

"We don't need to do this, Yaxley." Mitchell was surprised that he actually said that.

Mitchell looked at Yaxley, and was surprised to see genuine disappointment in his eyes. "I was afraid you were going to act like this. It's really a shame, you had such potential… even the Dark Lord noticed."

"The Dark Lord isn't here any more, Yaxley. And that was years ago, things have changed."

"They have – three years ago, you would have never thought of marrying that half-blood."

"Don't you dare call her that." Mitchell snarled.

Yaxley grinned, "Ashamed of her blood status, Mitchell? Old convictions die hard, don't they?"

Once again, silence took hold of the conversation. Fuming, Mitchell headed back for the door.

"How is her daughter – Molly?"

Mitchell paused, hand on the doorknob.

"Her father was a Muggle, was he not? For her own sake, I do hope she can do magic; it would be a shame to have a squib in the family." Mitchell could hear the satisfaction in Yaxley's voice: he knew he had Mitchell's attention.

"Leave her out of this, she's just six years old…"

"I will if you do your job. That is all I ask."

Mitchell was gripping the doorknob extremely tightly; he was trying as hard as he could to not lose his temper in front of Yaxley.

"Fine, I'm in."

"Excellent. And do say hello to Deirdre for me."

Before he gave into the impulse to curse Yaxley, Mitchell stormed out through the doors and rushed down the stairs, fighting back the fearful thoughts over the safety of his family along the way.

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**Please review! I hope you've enjoyed it thus far! :)**


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